


How Strangely Still

by apocalypse_later



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Experimental Style, Humor, Marine Portgas D. Ace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-12-01 23:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalypse_later/pseuds/apocalypse_later
Summary: Portgas D. Ace set out to sea to aim for the Grand Line, become a great pirate, defy his grandfather, and never subordinate himself to anyone.He failed on every single count.





	How Strangely Still

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting around for a month or so now, so I might as well post it. If it continues, and there's any romance, it'll probably be Smoker/Ace, Marco/Ace or Thatch/Ace.

**0.1**

The sea was gentle, the sky was cloudless, and Portgas D. Ace was going to die.

This wasn’t really a surprise, in a way – he’d never expected to live to old age, and a violent death was almost guaranteed – but he'd certainly expected to make it more than a week past his seventeenth birthday. At the very least, he’d planned on making it to the Grand Line, rather than becoming sea-king bait in East Blue.

Suddenly, all that studying of ships and navigation that Sabo used to do seemed less like a waste of time, but considering he was now clinging on to a few planks of wood, supplies vanished into the depths, Ace figured it was probably a little late to start signing up for a library card.

“So this is how I die,” he mused aloud, mostly to ignore his aching arms and the horrible suspicion that if he started kicking, something with big teeth was going to get interested. “Wet. Really wet.” At least gramps and Luffy would never know he had such an embarrassing and pointless death. Hopefully a strong pirate crew would pass by soon, and his family would assume he’d been killed by someone actually worth getting murdered by.

After perhaps ten hours of holding tight, not even a seagull in view, maybe his thoughts were a little more morbid than usual. Mostly Ace was bored. And hungry. And really embarrassed over ending up like this. Maybe if he lured in a sea-king? A small one, he could probably take it, right?

Ace groaned in frustration, seawater dribbling down his face from the latest wave to roll lazily against him – thank Poseidon for the good weather – and tried not to think about the letter he'd left with Luffy barely a week ago. The one addressed to gramps, jauntily informing him that Ace had set off to be a pirate, and good luck catching him.

On the one hand, he didn’t want to be dragged home (or worse, to a Marine base). On the other, deep down, and not something Ace would ever admit to, he kind of wouldn’t mind being caught right now. No matter how furious the old man was, at least gramps would feed him.

So hungry.

So cold.

Maybe if he’d learned a bit more about the weather, that squall wouldn’t’ve-

Sighing, Ace pressed his forehead against the soaked plank, making it bob all the harder. It didn’t matter now.

He’d see Sabo soon – hopefully Luffy would be okay. How long would it be until he expected to see Ace in the papers? Until he started getting worried? Until gramps told him there hadn’t been a single sighting of his big brother since he’d left Foosha? Until –

Something echoed across the water.

Ace looked up, dull hope flaring to life.

A ship. He’d never really been one for identifying the types, but it was fast and big; a merchant one from what he’d seen passing at sea growing up, three massive masts visible from even this distance. More importantly, judging from the way they were smoothly changing direction towards him, they’d spotted him.

Maybe the world wasn’t done with him just yet.

**0.2**

“Loguetown,” Ace repeated, not entirely sure how he felt about it. He’d been heading for Sixis, an island holding a mysterious treasure (or so legends said), but that obviously wasn’t an option now. Demanding a merchant ship change their course after they’d done him the decency of pulling him aboard wasn’t only ungrateful, it might get him kicked overboard again.

Not that he couldn’t take a bunch of merchants and regular sailors, but there were obviously hired guards mingled here and there, and besides... well, it was a dick move.

“Straight there, no stops,” Captain Leif confirmed. A decent guy, Ace could tell, by the way he’d only briefly winced at the boy dripping over his plush office chair. Who needed an office this fancy, though? What a waste of cash. “We're on the last leg now, and if we detour to drop you off somewhere, we'll throw our schedule off – where were you heading?”

“Sixis. I’m a –” Best not to say pirate, at least until he’d been fed and had a decent sleep. “– treasure hunter.”

The Captain barked a disbelieving laugh, eyes widening. “Sixis? You’re, what, sixteen?”

“Seventeen,” Ace protested hotly, unfortunately aware of the curves and fat of not-quite-finished puberty clinging to him. He had more than decent muscles, of course, hidden beneath his clothes, but one look at his face showed he was less than completely matured. And sure, he was only a week past seventeen, but so what? Seventeen and a week was still seventeen!

“Seventeen? That's barely better.” Captain Leif shook his head, face softening further. “Sixis kills anyone who even gets near it, boy, you don’t want to head there. Treasure-hunting itself is a fool's game! I’ve got tens of millions of beri stored in the holds; that’s how you get rich, and it's a damn sight safer, too.”

Ace kept his face bland and polite, vaguely attentive, even as he felt it try to twitch into a scowl. “I just had a bit of bad luck, is all. I can take care of myself.”

The look the captain shot him expressed exactly what the man thought of that. “If you say so, boy. Now, it’ll be about eighteen days until we hit Loguetown, barring any problems, but we’re not a pleasure ship. There’s a few passengers, mostly traders, but they’ve already paid their fare, and... I doubt you can do the same.”

All right, now Ace was glad that the man was sympathetic to a bedraggled teen, and not just ready to toss the extra mouth overboard. “I can work.” Eighteen days of ship-work. Not good, but certainly better than a pointless drowning, and of course he’d planned to pass through Loguetown on the way to Reverse Mountain, anyway.

This was just... a little sooner than expected. Plus he’d probably be lacking a ship. And a crew. And a reputation. And an everything.

All right, maybe this wasn’t the best.

Just eighteen days, Ace reassured himself. He’d figure out something at Loguetown. Until then, he’d have a hammock and food, and likely clean clothes provided. Things would work out from there.

**0.3**

It took a grand total of two days before Ace realized he couldn’t just coast through with a minimum of effort. Not that he’d been planning on slacking off, he wasn’t that much of jerk to people who’d saved his life, but it became rapidly obvious that not only was he missing out on plenty of nautical knowhow, both practical and theoretical, but his appetite was at least three times any of the other sailors. At first this was put down to his exhaustion from the sea and his youth, but the discreet narrowed eyes he got on the second day when the Captain took pity and gave him extra rations? That told him that even if had something of a natural charisma, he’d need to learn fast enough to have the others think he was worth the extra rations, or this trip would seem a damn sight longer than it really was.

So he learned.

Rise at dawn (bad, but tolerable), scrub decks (worse, barely tolerable), help with the ropes (absolutely awful at first, when he didn’t know what knot to tie when or how, or how to raise or lower a sail, and the rope-burn on his fingers wasn’t fun either, and even less tolerable). Run messages between the officers and crew (much better, and he was slowly picking up some terms, which was at least useful), help the ship's carpenter with measuring some planks to be replaced – by the end of each day, Ace was collapsing into his hammock exhausted, still at least a little hungry, but at least with his head more full than before.

Besides, he now knew the type of ship he was on was called a clipper, which... might come in handy one day?

After a week of running himself ragged, things got easier. He knew enough now to not have someone keeping an eye on him for basic duties, which meant no more grumbling about having to babysit the child (and meant Ace didn't have to resist punching them). Sure, he was still eating more than everyone else, but a polite demeanour and volunteering to take over a couple of watches meant the crew had mostly accepted it, now that he was actually somewhat useful. He’d even had a couple of sailors volunteer to show him how to read the sky and sea for weather – just the bare basics, but still more than he’d known before – and how to properly climb the rigging without nearly tearing the ropes in the process (not a problem for anyone else, but most of them had cottoned on by now that he was a damn sight stronger than the average seventeen year old. Carrying two full barrels of nails at once tended to do that).

Free lodgings (admittedly in the dark, smelly crew quarters, with fifty other men, but still), free food, two sets of ship slops to wear along with the now-clean clothes he’d sunk in – Ace reminded himself of that every time he had to grit his teeth and be nice when he was assigned to stitch a sail, or help the ship's drunken doctor inventory the medical stock. Okay, so it wasn’t piracy, and he didn't want any of the men for his crew (besides, they treated him like a child) but it was still useful, right? An education, much as he’d pulled a face every time Sabo chewed him out for refusing to learn.

Mostly he learned that he needed a crew able and willing to do all this boring stuff so that he didn’t have to.

**0.4**

By the end of the second week, the navigator had been won around enough that he let Ace pore over his maps and logbooks, pointing out the different symbols that meant tides and depths, craggy rocks or smooth shorelines, patches of water that were more infested with sea-kings than average.

“How were you navigating,” he asked, curious, after learning Ace was only hazily aware of the movement of the stars, “with just a compass?”

Ace just shrugged. “Just hoped for the best, I guess.”

Judging by the navigator’s horrified look – the same one Makino got when the boys had proudly explained how they harvested a beehive of honey via pointy sticks and covering Luffy in sugar – that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

At least it got him extra lessons in navigation, mind-numbing though they were.

Maybe he’d recruit a navigator even before the cook, Ace silently decided, despairing over the annotated book that had been forced into his hands (and brain).

The thing was, though, as staid and dry as it all was, Ace was weirdly good at soaking it up. The practical, mostly – the rigging was no longer a mystery, for a start, and his endurance and dexterity had always been incredible – but even the theoretical wasn’t so awful or hard when he reminded himself it could mean the difference between not getting in more trouble, this time something that he (or worse, his crewmates) wouldn’t be rescued from. Sure, he might not be able to perform math for angles and distance on the fly like some of the crew, and he hadn’t so much as touched one of the ship's few cannons beyond polishing them, but with a bit of forewarning, he could drudge his way through necessary calculations, or easily call up some facts about best sailing this or that stretch of water.

Not that such specific things would help in the Grand Line, where the men bragged that the weather changed from one instant to another, and water that was a breezy, easy run one day was iced over the next – and the less said about those Log Pose things, the better; but at least he wasn’t blatantly ignorant any more.

Just reasonably so.

**0.5**

Nineteen days after coming aboard, there’d been only a few careful detours caused by the sight of what might have been pirate ships, and the clipper Golden Chariot pulled into Loguetown's port.

“We're mostly safe now,” Captain Leif told Ace easily, as the boy picked up the thin roll of supplies he’d been given. “Loguetown isn’t quite a pirate den, there’s some order kept here, but the seas around? Absolutely plastered with the buggers.”

“It seemed quiet on the way in,” Ace said, mildly confused at the sight of so many ships in port that were blatantly flying jolly rogers, or at least fake flags with what were obviously pirates aboard.

“I pay the right fees to the right people. They keep most of the trouble away,” Leif answered, before nodding quickly towards a Marine ship at anchor, two officers lounging on the deck and doing nothing about the pirates docked nearby.

Nor, Ace noticed, did the pirates seem all that bothered about the Marines. One of them even gave a cheerful wave and cry as he walked past the official vessel.

So much for gramps' ‘justice'.

“I suppose it’s only natural for Gold Roger's hometown to become such a destination for pirates,” the Captain added, pulling away from the railings. “You might want to see the execution block while you’re here, boy – that’s history, right there!”

“Not really my thing.” Ace shot him a somewhat tight smile, air suddenly a little colder. “Any advice on making some cash around here, Captain?” Somehow, he got the feeling any treasure around these parts was already claimed.

Leif pursed his lips, the bustle of the ship as crates and barrels were unloaded and guarded going ignored. “Quick cash...” His eyes flickered over Ace, a little awkwardly, before whatever he was thinking was dismissed. “But legal – there’s always the stevedores for loading and unloading ships, of course, and messengers or the like. You could sign up with another ship – our roster's full for now, but you’re welcome to check back in a few days, in case one of the men changes ships or gets himself killed. Some of the shops or bars might be hiring, although they’re a bit more picky about giving jobs to locals, rather than strangers.”

Yeah, Ace wasn’t sure he’d trust a random stranger in Loguetown with a shop till, either. “That’s helpful, thanks,” he said, because politeness had got him this far, and if worst came to worst, he might need to check back here; not that he wanted to come aboard again, or on any other ship he wasn’t Captain of, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

A flicker of stubborn pride told him it was better to be a sailor aboard a merchant ship for a while longer, than to be some cabin boy aboard a pirate ship, though. Even if the pirate ship would be more educational for his purposes... no, he wanted to start as Captain. This was just a brief and unfortunate interlude.

“Tell you what,” the Captain suddenly said, as if he hadn't even expected himself to speak. “Some of this cargo, we deliver ourselves, and we can’t trust every new criminal here to have been told how things are done. Why don’t you come along as a little extra security?”

“Me?” Ace paused, surprised as he glanced over at the middle-aged man. “You’ve never seen me fight.”

Leif laughed, quiet-like. “You’re strong and fast, and numbers help by themselves.” He rubbed his chin, looking contemplative. “I can’t pay much, our budget’s already set, but it’ll get you a meal or two, and a bed for the night. What say you?”

He’d have had to have been as much of an idiot as Luffy not to accept.

**0.6**

The sailors and Ace managed to get the delivery – three large crates, strapped onto a cart – down five streets before someone robbed them. Or attempted it, at least – three idiot pirates thought they could take on seven men, only to discover that merchant-sailors could use knives and pistols too, and that Ace was a good aim with a length of wood he’d grabbed. It wasn’t as good as a metal pipe, but it broke the kneecaps of the pirate he swung it at just fine.

He got a bonus, if small, for the danger along the way (undeserved, he felt, considering how weak the attackers were), and as Leif had said, a room and meal for the night.

Looking for a pirate crew to join was pointless – he’d already determined not to be some cabin boy – which meant the best option was the most boring one; earn some cash, enough to keep himself fed and under a roof (no treehouses in Loguetown) while he looked for suitable crewmates and a decent ship to steal.

Fine. Another delay, unfortunate but necessary. He’d be on his way soon, Ace reassured himself, as he delivered a message here and a package there, odd-jobs increasing as people learned they could trust him not to run off with the deliveries or money.

Three days in Loguetown.

Five days in Loguetown.

One week.

Ten days.

Ace very carefully, patiently, tried not to snap.

The thing was, Loguetown itself was hardly boring or anything; it wasn’t quite a pirate town, thanks to the thin veneer of respectability it kept, no-one was shooting each other on the streets – but pirates swaggered or staggered in plain sight down the streets, and Marines turned a blind eye to everything but their wallets. Ace had already made one delivery to a popular criminal bar called the Gold Roger (he’d grit his teeth while making that one), which was so blatantly obvious, it might as well have been called Pirate Pub.

It was just... none of the pirates were anyone Ace would want to recruit. A lot were weak, not just in body but in spirit, cowards or braggarts who shied away from real danger and preferred to attack civilian villages or traders. Others were lazy or unadventurous, never wanting to travel more than a brief distance from Loguetown – and few that Ace eavesdropped on were willing to brave the Grand Line.

No wonder they preferred to stick with raiding defenceless civilians or the ships that hadn’t paid off their ‘fees'.

The other option, Ace glumly supposed, was to steal a ship (a small one, like the boat he’d left Foosha on), and cross Reverse Mountain by his lonesome. Some supplies and a Log Pose, and he could recruit people in the Grand Line itself, where the cowards or lazy must have already been partly winnowed out. Or gain passage on a civilian ship, maybe, which would solve the problem of supplies and navigation...

Who would’ve thought becoming a pirate would be so hard?

Sighing, Ace finished the last of his meal (the cash he made vanished depressingly quickly in the name of filling his stomach, leaving enough for a room for the night and not much else). Maybe he could just stow away? Except no, he was more aware these days that the amount he ate was noticeable, so unless he got on a ship that was unacceptably lax with their supplies...

There really was no way out, Ace reluctantly admitted to himself. Not easily, anyway. He was going to have to find a quick way to make a ton of cash; he could rob some of the local criminals, although that was kind of like kicking a hornet nest if he didn't leave Loguetown soon after. He could-

Ace paused, staring across the bustling street from the cafe he sat in, where a bored Marine was pasting up a poster which got little attention from the passersby.

** _JOIN THE MARINES!_ **  
** _ SAIL THE SEAS AND UPHOLD JUSTICE_ **  
** _ TALK TO YOUR LOCAL RECRUITMENT OFFICER TODAY!_ **  
** _ ENLISTMENT INCENTIVES NOW OFFERED!_ **

That sign was lying crap, Ace knew, still watching it thoughtfully, but the ‘enlistment incentives' sounded interesting... and he suspected that was the sort of thing that paid out quickly, if they were that desperate for recruits.

Ace grinned as he set his napkin down, hope rising once more.

Congratulations, gramps! Looks like one grandson was joining the Marines after all! For a day or two, anyway.


End file.
